The morning sun had barely crested the peaks when Wan Long made his way toward the alchemy hall for his usual cleaning duties.
The familiar scent of herbs and burnt residue filled the air. His body, still humming with residual qi from last night's cultivation, moved with effortless precision.
But before he could reach his assigned section, he heard louder noise from the outer alchemy hall—shouts, frantic footsteps, and the low hum of panic.
Curiosity stirred, and for the first time in weeks, he followed the crowd of cleaning disciples rather than going straight to his work.
As he reached the edge of the hall, he found a cluster of outer disciples gathered near the entrance, their faces pale, eyes wide with horror and disbelief.
"…Senior Brother Chen?" one whispered. "How… how could this happen?"
"…The furnace… it just… exploded…" another muttered.
Wan Long's eyes narrowed. From the murmurs and hurried whispers, he began to piece together the story.
Senior Brother Chen, a first-tier alchemist who had spent a decade perfecting his craft, had apparently died in a furnace explosion. Two assistants had perished alongside him.
The rumor among the disciples was chilling. Chen had been pushing himself beyond limits—weeks without sleep, tirelessly experimenting with a Tier Two pill formula.
The danger had been immense, but no one expected the furnace to suddenly erupt, catching everyone off guard.
Even with all his skill, the reports said, Chen had been a moment too late to deploy his spiritual barrier. The blast had overpowered him instantly, leaving no chance to react.
The cleaning disciples shuddered as they whispered among themselves.
"Tier Two… that's not a pill you experiment with casually. Even senior disciples need preparation."
" Eight levels of qi cultivation… and he couldn't even protect himself?"
Wan Long, standing at the edge of the crowd, didn't speak. His mind raced, calculating the implications.
He was at the 9th level of Body Tempering, soon to break into Qi Cultivation. He could imagine the sheer force of a Tier Two pill gone wrong, and the fact that even an experienced first-tier alchemist at 8th level of qi refinement was killed instantly chilled him to the bone.
Yet, in the same moment, a spark of resolve flared in his chest.
This… this is why I must be careful.
And why I must grow faster than anyone else here.
He stepped closer to the hall, careful not to attract attention.
From the distance, he could see scorched stone, shattered workbenches, and faint wisps of lingering qi from the explosion. The remnants of the furnace were blackened and twisted, smoke still rising in thin tendrils.
The panic around him, the whispers of disciples, the sheer destructive force—it all reminded him of the danger of overconfidence.
The cleaning disciples shuddered as they whispered among themselves, glancing nervously at the shattered outer alchemy hall.
"The furnace… it… it just exploded," one stammered. "Senior Brother Chen… gone…"
"Two assistants too…" another added, voice barely above a murmur. "Who would dare step inside now?"
Panic hung thick in the air. No one wanted to approach the ruins, much less touch the remnants of the failed experiments.
Just then, a ripple of movement drew their attention. Senior Sister Shen Murong appeared at the entrance, flanked by an elder whose aura radiated authority and icy calm. The crowd of disciples instinctively parted, giving them a wide berth.
Without a word, Shen Murong and the elder strode into the destroyed hall. The group of cleaning disciples held their breath, unsure what they were about to witness.
Minutes stretched like hours. Finally, the two emerged, expressions unreadable but commanding.
"Clean this hall," Shen Murong announced sharply. "All of it. Every scrap, every shard, every failed pill. Begin immediately."
A hush fell over the disciples. The destruction was overwhelming; many hesitated, looking around at each other for guidance. Fear of the explosion still lingered like a shadow.
It was then that Shen Murong's sharp gaze swept across the group.
Her eyes stopped on Wan Long, standing slightly apart from the others, calm and observant.
"You," she said, her voice carrying over the whispers. "Coordinate the cleaning. Make sure everything is cleared efficiently."
Wan Long's heart skipped a beat, but he nodded, lowering his head respectfully.
"Yes, Senior Sister."
As soon as Shen Murong commanded him to coordinate the cleaning, Wan Long didn't hesitate. Without a second thought, he sprang into action.
The other cleaning disciples froze, praying silently that he wouldn't assign any of them to the horrid task. But Wan Long ignored them entirely, his eyes scanning the hall with a calculating focus.
He stepped forward.
"Leave it to me," he muttered under his breath.
Before anyone could protest or offer to help, the disciples dispersed in relief, leaving him alone. Wan Long didn't flinch. He walked toward the inner hall.
The moment he entered, his stomach twisted. Blood coated the floors and splattered the walls, a grim reminder of the furnace explosion. Broken glass vials, shattered mortar, and charred remnants of failed pills littered every corner. Just looking at it made most people want to vomit.
But for Wan Long, an idea struck instinctively. Without conscious thought, his fingers twitched, and he whispered in his mind:
"System—recycle."
Immediately, a force unlike anything he had experienced before rippled through the room.
For a brief moment, his mind froze. Wait… it's actually doing it automatically? He blinked, utterly surprised.
All the previous days, he had been manually carrying waste outside before invoking the system, a slow and inefficient process. He had never imagined that the system could absorb everything at once, including the failed pills, shards, dregs, and even the bodies of the deceased assistants.
The cleaning disciples waiting outside didn't see a thing. To them, it was as if the room had simply been left untouched—yet the smell vanished, the floors were spotless, and even the faint traces of blood and residue had disappeared.
Wan Long stood still, heart racing. The power of the system had far exceeded his expectations.
Moments later, the rewards appeared on the glowing panel before him:
[Recycling failed pill residue…]
[Recycling complete.]
[Obtained: 4,500 Days of Spiritual Energy.]
[Obtained: 2 Fragments of Mid-Grade Wood Spirit Root.]
[Obtained: 3 Fragments of Mid-Grade Fire Spirit Root.]
[Obtained: Complete Tier 2 Bone Mending Pill Formula.]
[Recycle Points +25,000]
His eyes widened in astonishment.
The system… it's actually capable of recycling everything in a room at once.
He swallowed hard, excitement and disbelief swirling together.
...
Fragments of spirit roots…?
Wan Long knew exactly what they were. These fragments were issued only by the system—no one knew of their existence in the myriad realm. Ten fragments could be combined to form a full spirit root, a treasure beyond imagination. With these fragments, he could eventually enhance his cultivation potential far beyond normal disciples.
The complete Tier 2 Bone Mending Pill formula was another jackpot—unlike the Qi Nourishment Pills, this was a pill reserved for higher-tier alchemists, used to repair and strengthen the bones of cultivators, even capable of aiding those at the Core Realm.
And 25,000 RP(recycle points)—the number alone made his pulse thunder. With these points, he could finally upgrade cultivation techniques, enhance spiritual roots, and improve his abilities .
Wan Long's lips curved into a small, satisfied smile.
This… this changes everything.
He took a slow breath, letting the system's energy wash through him. The inner hall was now not just a place of work—it was a goldmine. Every failed experiment, every abandoned pill, every discarded fragment could now become his power.
He glanced at the glowing panel once more, already calculating his next move.
A thrill ran through him. The Moon Pavilion Holy Sect, the inner halls, even the elders—they had no idea that a servant disciple had just become the most dangerous recycler in the sect.
....
Wan Long was carefully planning his next steps, crouched near a corner as if he were methodically cleaning the shattered outer hall. In reality, he was just killing time, waiting for the commotion to die down so no one would suspect how effortlessly he had recycled the mess.
A sharp knock at the door made him startle. His hand instinctively twitched toward the system, heart pounding.
Cautiously, he opened the door and stepped outside.
Standing before him was an inner sect disciple, a clean and composed figure, eyes fixed on him. Wan Long's chest tightened—his mind immediately flashed to the worst-case scenario: Had someone discovered the system?
"Dis… disciple," he stammered.
The inner sect disciple's lips curved slightly. "Senior Sister Murong has assigned you a new task. Come with me."
Wan Long's heart skipped a beat. A task… from her? Is this… a trap?
"Your work is… very special," the disciple continued, "You are to clean the personal rooms of the alchemy elders. Every shelf, every cabinet, every discarded experiment—everything."
For a moment, Wan Long froze. The personal rooms of alchemy elders were legendary in the sect. Not only were they forbidden to ordinary disciples, but they were also treasure troves of experimental pills, rare herbs, and discarded fragments of spirit roots.
His pulse quickened—not with fear, but with pure exhilaration.
This… this is the jackpot.
A sly grin tugged at his lips. While most disciples would cringe at the task, thinking it beneath or impossible, Wan Long already saw the potential through the system. He could simply invoke it, and everything—every failed pill, broken herb, even residues from previous experiments—would be instantly recycled. No effort, no mess, no witnesses.
This… is the greatest rainfall of all time.
The inner sect disciple, noticing his expression, added politely, "Senior Sister Murong insisted you handle this personally. Hurry, the elders are strict—no mistakes."
"Yes, I understand," Wan Long said calmly, keeping his composure. But inside, his mind was already calculating the rewards:
How many failed pills in each room?
How much Recycle Points he would gain?
He followed the disciple without a word, heart racing with excitement. For Wan Long, this wasn't just cleaning—it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to harvest the absolute richest materials in the entire alchemy hall.
And best of all… no one had any idea that the room's secrets would now belong to him.